So, today my mom's having her gall bladder removed.
And I'm not there. I'm in Guatemala.
I'm more than a little stressed about that. I know she's going to be fine. I just hate it that I am not there to take care of her. And that my sister is.
See, my sister is not the most "otherly" person. As in, she's not really always aware that there are other people on the planet besides herself. And she didn't come home for the week for the purpose of taking care of Mom. She just happened to be off for a week in between semseters, so she thought she'd come home.
And, to top it all off, my mom's...um...not exactly the best patient. As in, she's a ridiculous baby when she's had surgery. I saw her shortly after a surgery when I was a teenager, and oh. my. word. It scarred me for life. There was moaning, and wailing, and it was ridiculous.
So, those two paragraphs put together should be one interesting mix. But, I'm trying. I left her a note that thanked her for taking care of our mother, and how much better I felt knowing she was there to take care of Mom.
I just hope she doesn't make me eat my words. 'Cause I'm really trying to be nice here.